John sits planted in front of the TV – chair moved around so he doesn't have to look at an angle, lazy Sunday morning – coasting through channels. The oldest episode of Eastenders passes by as well as some Upstairs Downstairs. He'd watch some Mighty Boosh but every time he does Sherlock attempts to reasonably analyze the episode which is literally impossible so something new always ends up stabbed on the mantel. Finally, John settles on the news for two beats.
"Any interesting murders?"
John jolts in his chair at Sherlock's voice right in his ear and nearly drops the remote. "God, don't do that!"
Sherlock cocks his head and stands up straight. "That appears to be a 'no'."
John breathes through his nose as celebrity gossip news about the possible relationship of Justin Bieber and Selena Gomez crosses the screen.
"No thanks..." John mutters to the report.
Before he can change the channel, however, a blast of one of Bieber's annoying pop songs abuses their speakers. Almost instantly Sherlock shouts in what sounds like pain.
John jumps up. "What? You okay? What?"
Sherlock turns slowly from where he stands in the kitchen doorway. He points at the telly. "What is that?"
John looks sidelong at the screen. "Justin Bieber?"
"What is a Justin Bieber?"
"He's a Canadian pop singer."
"That explains the crass."
"I never said he was good." John sits down again. "Unless you ask a pre-teen"
Sherlock slides over slowly and folds himself over the back of John's chair then props his chin on John's head. "You mean there are people who enjoy this?"
John tries to look up at Sherlock. "Apparently."
"A lot of people?"
"Yes."
The story changes to a parliament vote and Sherlock lifts his chin then slides back off the chair. John turns around in his seat, peering over the back of the chair, to see Sherlock lying on the floor.
"Um… Did this revelation kill you?"
"Perhaps." Sherlock sits up. "This cannot be an isolated phenomenon."
"What phenomenon?"
"Bieber."
John shifts back around in his chair and puts a hand to his forehead. "Oh god."
Sherlock jumps to his feet, half climbs over John's chair and snatches his laptop off of a precarious pile of books in front of the fire grate which topples over in the process, a few landing on John's feet.
John kicks 'Ten most wanted' by Peter Bleksley off his foot then turns to Sherlock again. "Sherlock, what are you doing?"
Sherlock grins and whirls around to collapse on the couch. "Research!"
John blinks. "Will this research include sound bites or youtube videos?"
"Most likely. Perhaps you should run out for ear plugs."
John considers running out for the day instead. He stares at Sherlock for a moment as the man's fingers attack the computer keys then he slowly turns back to the TV. Maybe he should find a very loud episode of Doctor Who.
Ten minutes later Sherlock gasps loudly.
"What?" John dares to ask still watching the TV.
Sherlock chuckles. "There's more of them."
John blinks and his eyes shift up to the mantel. "Oh no." 'I want it that way' by the Backstreet Boys begins to play and John whips around. "Sherlock is an analysis of young pop stars really necessary?"
"They're called boy bands, John."
"Justin Bieber is not a boy band..."
"I've branched out, same family."
John sighs and switches back to the TV, selecting Mighty Boosh. When One Direction starts to sing 'What Makes You Beautiful' John cranks up the volume.
"Ah!" Sherlock exclaims about twenty minutes later as he clicks the keys so loudly it sounds like they'll break. "It almost appears they go in cycles! New Kids on the Block, Hanson, Justin Timberlake…"
"I wouldn't put him in the same category," John mutters.
The noise of Sherlock's typing stops. "What do you mean?"
"Well, he's not in 'N Sync anymore, not even the highlight of his career with what he's moved on to and, of course, his style of music has become…" John coughs and trials off. "…well, much different."
There is a long pause then, "It seems as though this is something rather familiar to you, John."
"Uh..." John shuts off the TV and gets up from the chair. "I need tea. You?"
John hustles into the kitchen, banging cupboards and clattering mugs. John quickly fills the kettle with water and adds some sugar to the sugar bowl. Then he sees Sherlock appear in the doorway out of the corner of his eye.
"So..."
"Sugar for you?" John interrupts, holding up the bowl.
"Yes and may I look at your CD collection?"
"Yes – no! No, I don't have any CDs."
"Phone then," Sherlock yanks John's phone out his pocket before John can respond.
"Hey! No..." John sighs, fingers drumming once quickly on the sugar bowl. "There's no music on my phone. Just – look, it was a phase, all right?"
Sherlock cocks an eyebrow.
"So, I like American music? So what?"
"You like Motown."
"I had a sister!"
"A gay sister."
"She did like the Indigo Girls..."
Sherlock's brow crinkles with confusion.
"Never mind." John puts down the sugar bowl in his hand
Sherlock stands still in the door way, only twisting John's phone around in his hand, and stares intently at John.
"Stop trying to analyze me; I could just tell you."
Sherlock steps into the kitchen, leans across John and clicks on the kettle with his free hand. He offer's John his phone back. "Well?"
John stares at Sherlock then takes his phone. "Okay, so, over in Afghanistan we onl-"
"Oh no."
"We had limited… we… what?"
"Only you, John, could connect boy bands and war."
"Not a boy band, Justin." John sighs. "Justin! Not 'N Sync."
"...Justin?"
"People call him that!"
"It is his name but I was unaware you two were on a first name basis."
John glares at Sherlock then the tea kettle behind him begins to whistle.
"Tea time," Sherlock remarks.
John grunts and pulls the kettle off the base. Sherlock slides the tea pot across the counter to rest in front of John. John frowns then pours the water into the pot.
"So, Justin then?" Sherlock says, emphasizing the name.
John huffs. "He made much better music after ''N Sync, all right? Not a boy band." John pauses. "Plus, he acts."
"Aficionado, are we?"
John shakes his head then walks around Sherlock and back into the living room. Sherlock follows a minute later with two ready mugs of tea and stands behind John's chair. He leans down and holds a mug for John in front of his face. John takes it and pretends the conversation is over as Sherlock still stands behind him. After a minute of silence, 'Cry me a River' starts to play from Sherlock's phone.
John feels himself begin to smile then he cannot stop a laugh bursting out. "Okay, okay!"
John puts his tea on the floor then stands up, grabs Sherlock's arm, pulls him over to sit on the couch and begins Sherlock's Justin Timberlake education
"This is straying from the main topic at hand, John."
"Justin Bieber isn't a boy band, technically this is closer."
"John, the point -"
John puts a finger against Sherlock's lips. "You found out my dirty music secret, so are you going to let me go on about it or not?"
Sherlock leans back and puts his arm on the edge of the couch behind John, his tea held at his knee. "Lead on then, Dr. Watson."
John takes Sherlock through a quick tour of 'N Sync, not really his favorite period, on through Justin's solo albums, favorite SNL performances, and acting career. John shows youtube videos – the video of 'Motherlover' is worth the eyebrow raise, Wikipedia – longer than he realized but they read the whole thing, and plays all the mp3s on his ipod nano. He even manages to find some old Mickey Mouse Club clips on youtube. He suggests a watching of The Social Network and In time at a later date. (He rejects the idea of watching Bad teacher or Friends with Benefits as that would probably only end badly if Sherlock watched either).
Sherlock remains still and watches everything John tabs through, quiet for once.
After several hours John pushes the laptop onto the table and finally leans back, finished. "So, that's Justin Timberlake. It just sort of became a thing in Afghanistan. We had the one CD, we played it too much, made fun of it bit... mostly it… well, it reminded me of home."
Sherlock watches John's face for a minute then leans over and kisses John on the cheek.
John blinks. "I... what?"
Sherlock smiles. "All analysis has a point, John."
"A… a point?"
"Earlier you bemoaned my analyzing boy bands?"
"I, well, uh… yes?"
"Well, it seems I learned something through beginning that analysis, didn't I?"
"Ah." John smiles slowly and feels - what is certainly not a blush - on his face. "I suppose you did." They stare at each other for two beats then John clears his throat and fingers the edge of the laptop. "So, we don't have to play any more boy bands?"
"I believe we have covered enough for the time being." Sherlock raises an eyebrow. "Unless you care to play more Justin?"
John rolls his eyes and snaps closed the laptop. "It's done."
"Yes, sir."
"Shut up."
Sherlock smiles and John smiles back, a small, warm spot on his cheek that remains when the blush is gone.